Saturday 30 November 2013

Her Bad Boy (Chapter 15)

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Her Bad Boy
How does a girl cope when her twin flame is the definitive bad boy? (18+ Erotica)

Chapter 14 | Chapter 15: The Dark and the Deadly

The rain had stopped its onslaught in the city, but once they had taken the route towards the market town it had started up again, harder and faster this time. Unrelenting, darkening clouds had begun to collude together, cutting off the sunlight, and turning the day murky.

Despite the Land Rover’s heater blasting hot air into the car, and wrapping herself in Kevin’s jacket, the scene outside gave her goosebumps. “I’m not going to ask you to stop, because you’ll only think I’m stalling again. But this weather is getting pretty bad.”

“We’ll be fine.”

“I can hardly see outside for the rain to give you directions. What have you got? Laser vision?”

He sent an irritated glance her way. “What do you want me to do? Stop in the middle of the motorway?”

“You could slow down for starters.”

“Your wish is my command.” He eased his foot from the pedal, until the Land Rover visibly slowed. A car from behind honked its horn, and flashed its headlights. “Anything else I can do for you, while I’m at it?”

She didn’t bother answering. Except for the swish of the windscreen wipers and large drops of rain on the windows blurring their vision, they rode in silence for several minutes. Finally, they reached the junction that headed east to Montrose.

She leaned her head back against the seat, appraising him, studying his taut jaw, the frown lines that pulled at the corners of his mouth. Her pulse picked up. “When will you stop being angry with me?”

“I’m not angry with you.”

“Not much you’re not,” she retorted.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Well, if I am can you blame me?”

“Oh, I get it. Teach Daisy a lesson, is that it? Put her on the naughty step.”

He gave her a hard stare. “This isn’t a game.”

“Neither is sulking. It isn’t very manly. Anyone ever told you that?”

“Well, you’re the expert on sulking.” He paused. “And men.”

Anger pinched at her heart. “That was a cheap shot.”

“What can I say? You bring out the best in me.” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Look, we all say things we don’t mean. We all say things we can’t take back. How about we just stay quiet and minimise the damage?”

“How about you grow a pair of balls?” she shouted, her quick temper releasing the knot of frustration inside her. She watched his jaw tighten at her response, and she decided she liked it.

“You must have led your dad a merry dance when you were young.”

“That would be difficult as I never knew him.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. No, strike that. You don’t want my pity, right?”

“Right.”

Blowing a deep breath through pursed lips, he narrowed a troubled gaze on the wet road. “We keep putting our foot into it. Do you think we could stop? At least until we get out of the car?”

She thought about telling him to go to hell, but decided to keep her first response to herself. “I’ll give it a go if you will.”

“It’s a deal.” He gave her arm a gentle squeeze, and his thumb skirted across her wrist. Before she could pull away, it traced the scar that was there.

When he glanced at her this time, his eyes held such sadness that her heart contracted. Returning his hand to the steering wheel, he asked in a softened tone, “Do you want to talk about it?”

After a moment of tense quiet, she said, “What is there to say. I’m still here. It- It was a long time ago.” She shifted in her seat, more shaken by the way he’d looked at her, than anything else. She’d never seen a man look like that before. Not at her. It had touched her more than she could say.

Trying to compose herself, she turned away from him to look out the car window, when her smartphone rang to drag her away from the precipice of the moment. Feeling grateful for the diversion, she dug in her pocket for the phone. It trilled, displaying a number she didn’t recognise. Curious, she swiped her finger across the brightly lit screen. “Hello? Who is it?”

“Daisy? Where... you? ...calling from hospital...”

“Sally?” She watched his pensive expression as she poked a finger in one ear so she could hear over the static on the line.

“When... back? ...have news... Iain...” Sally’s broken words filtered through the bad connection, courtesy of the rain, she assumed. It seemed strange the weather would be the culprit, but what else could be playing havoc with the service? They were near the coastline, and there were no mountains for miles.

“Sally, say that again. What about Iain?” She strained to hear Sally’s response. “No fucking way?” She punched the air, and gave a whoop for joy. “He opened his eyes? What does old man Merry say?”

Kevin gave her a silent thumbs up, and a wink. She winked back. “OK, we’re still on the way to your place. But I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Despite the garbled connection, she managed to relay the basics of the weather situation to Sally. “Yeah, Kevin and I are driving over together... OK, I’ll tell him. Right, see you then.” She keyed off the call and jammed the phone back in her pocket.

“Good news, huh?”

She gave an emphatic nod. “Great news. Suddenly I don’t care that I have to tell Sally what I’ve done. I’m just glad Iain has opened his eyes. At least he is going to be OK, even if I’ve lost a friend.”

“Don’t shout fire ’til you see the smoke. I’m sure she’ll forgive you.”

She shrugged, blinking hard, and wanting to change the subject. “Sally says thanks for the breakfast by the way... but the line was bad. I must have understood her wrong.”

“Why?”

“Tunnock tea cakes and bacon?”

“And what’s wrong with that? I thought women liked chocolate treats?”

“With bacon? For breakfast? Seems I got off lightly having breakfast with you.”

“It’s what I usually eat for breakfast.”

“I can tell you’re not married.”

“I was,” he said in a low voice.

“Was? Divorced?”

“She took her own life.”

She instinctively touched the faint scar mark on her wrist, understanding more clearly the look he’d given her. Turning on her seat to face him, she pulled at her bottom lip for a moment, deciding if she should say anything. Better not to, she thought. There were times words did more harm than good.

“We all have a choice, she made hers. But it’s the people left behind who have to live with it. You think about that, OK?”

She huddled deeper into his jacket. “I did it at a time when my mother had just died. I thought I had no one to leave behind, except Sally, and it would have been one less burden for her.”

He directed the car heater’s slatted vents towards her so that she got the full benefit of the heat. “Your mum made you think you’re a burden?”

“God, no. But being a single mum is still frowned upon in our town. She lost her job when I was born. My mum was housekeeper for the McMasters,” she explained.

“And she never married? Or tell you who your dad was?”

She shook her head, thinking back to her teenage years, and how she was made to feel an outcast by the small-minded conventions of a market town. She remembered how much it hurt having to silently endure the taunts at school, and she hadn’t wanted to inflict that knowledge on her mother. So, she never pestered her about her father. And anyway, if the bastard hadn’t wanted to know her, why she should want to know him?

“She didn’t give you up, though. She must have loved you very much.”

“I think- I think she felt guilty that I didn’t have a father. So, she tried to love me enough for two parents. And she did a good job, I was just a lost cause.” She had grown up loved, but the secret nature of her parentage had made her feel unwanted. There was a difference, and it was one that had festered in her, poisoning her against men.

They were all two-faced bastards, the lot of them, she thought irately. Willing to take notice when they wanted her to spread her legs for them, but acting as though she had the plague around their womenfolk.

“No one is a lost cause. Don’t say that.”

Glancing over her shoulder, she narrowed a curious gaze on him. “You’re a tough guy to figure out.”

“There’s more to you than meets the eye, too.”

She raised her chin. “I’m not as stupid as I look, is that what you mean?”

“You act stupid, but you don’t look stupid.”

“You need to work on your compliments. Have I told you that lately?”

He gave her a big smile. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. How’s that?”

She hadn’t seen that coming, or maybe she should have done. Placing a finger in her mouth, she pretended to be sick. “Please!”

“I mean it.”

Something in his voice made her stop. “You looking for a pity fuck? Or what?”

Instead of taking offence, his face lit up with amusement. “Or what. I don’t need to go through this hassle to get a woman. Even one as pretty as you. Take my word for it.”

She eyed him surreptitiously, and knew he was right. When a woman looked at him they probably saw every romantic hero they’d ever lusted after. He was tall and muscular, with dark blue eyes, and golden brown hair, straight and well cut, while cast across a strong chin was a light shadow of stubble, roughing out his perfect edges.

But it was his hands that had taken most of her attention. Thick, and strong, and yet with the capacity to be so gentle... It made her knees shiver just thinking about the way his thumb had stroked her wrist. “So, why the compliment?”

He turned the wheel towards the intersecting junction to her town. “You’re very suspicious. You need to be more trusting. Not all men are evil.”

“They have their uses... but I do wonder how you lot run the world, when you don’t have the basic intelligence to put the toilet lid down once you’re done.”

“You never hear us complaining when women don’t leave the lid up, do you?”

She let out a weary sigh, and stared out the window. The fight had gone out of her. The day seemed to get darker, and the rain was refusing to let up. It looked like it was nearly ten in the evening, instead of ten in the morning. “How am I going to direct you in this?”

“My trusty steed might be old, but we do have one or two modern tools.” He indicated for her to open the box department by her knees. “I have a sat-nav in there. Take it out and we’ll punch in your postcode.”

“We could just use my smartphone?”

“My sat-nav is military grade. More reliable.”

Once the gadget had been set up and attached to the dashboard, she told him the address and postcode. Settling back for the last leg of the journey, she asked, “Did you really mean what you said?”

“I’ve said a lot of things. Be specific.”

She squirmed uncomfortably. “About me being beautiful.”

“Yes... but if you’d let me finish before you started throwing up, I was going to add that for someone who has battled with the issues you have, you have a lot more to offer than just your physical appearance.”

“Thanks... Now I sound like a charity case... So, what is it you think I have to offer? Apart from these babies,” she said, cupping her breasts.

He chuckled. “You’re strong despite what you’ve been through. I find that beautiful. It takes a lot of strength for someone to release their anger. But it also takes a lot of support for someone to grow and become a better person.”

“If that’s true then Sally could lead a beauty pageant. She’s always been there for me. Always. She’s forgiven me everything.”

“That’s what friends are for. You need to start returning the favour.”

“Some things are unforgivable though.” She looked at him pointedly when he didn’t come back with a smart response. “What no clever comeback? This is your chance to make me feel guilty yet again, and you’re not taking it?” She stretched up with her hand, barely managing to reach his forehead. “Are you running a fever?”

“I made a deal with you, didn’t I?” He made a zipping motion across his lips, but she absorbed the sudden expression he wore like a physical blow. It twisted at her insides.

“So, what’s that look for?”

He shrugged his large shoulders. “Forget it.”

“No, come on. What gives?”

She regretted pushing him for an answer the minute he asked the question, “Do you have feelings for Stephen?” His brusque manner twisted her up even more. “Well?”

She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak, feeling as though they had gone back to a line they’d broached before Sally’s call. He wouldn’t let the matter drop, however.

“He’s happy with her, even if he won’t admit it. I’ve seen them together, and if they decide this is what they both want, why would you interfere?”

Rallying herself in response, she said, “I thought I recognised the type. He may think it’s what he wants, but in a few years, he’ll get restless. He’ll feel trapped. But Sally isn’t like that. She isn’t like me-”

“She sure isn’t,” he cut in.

She clenched her teeth, shoving down the sour spike of guilt that churned in her stomach as she crouched into his coat. “Or maybe I was just jealous. That he’d take away my only friend.”

Her skin burned with shame. Why had she vented like that? What he must think of her? A sad, lonely bitch no doubt. Wincing at the thought, she felt herself go even redder from her toes up. “You tell me why I did it. You’ll have a better explanation. You always seem to.”

He said nothing for a moment, then said, “It took a lot of guts to tell me that. I don’t know your reasons for doing what you did, but what matters is you know now it was wrong.”

She rolled her shoulders uneasily. “So, you’re not angry with me any more?”

“I never was...”

“Sure, I believe you. Millions wouldn’t. You never make mistakes, I suppose.”

“I’ve made more than enough. But you have a talent for making people crazy.”

“I do rub people up the wrong way,” she admitted. “Maybe that’s why I’m no good at making friends.”

“You know, you don’t have to be lonely and Stephen going out with Sally doesn’t have to mean you’ll lose your friend. He can be a good friend, if you let him.”

“Looks like I ruined any chances of that.” She looked straight ahead into the dark, wet slurry beating outside the car window. “And what about you?”

He checked the sat-nav, and turned the wheel right. “We should be there in a minute. You got the key?”

She fumbled in her pocket. “Yeah... but you didn’t answer my question.”

“Do I need to?”

“No.” Clearing her throat, she leaned back and glanced away.

The sat-nav gave a long beep to signal arrival at the keyed destination. He stopped the car, and looked directly at her. “Get under my jacket, you’re going to be soaked otherwise.”

She looked at him, dressed in just a shirt and jeans. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m a big boy.” He peered outside. “But I don’t see the house.”

She gave a small smile. “This is just the driveway. The McMasters mansion is further up that way.” She pointed to her side of the window. “You’ll see its outline as you drive up.”

“What are those wires fences?”

“The new company have already started sectioning off the old mines. They are going to start drilling soon, if the town can’t stop them... It was on the radio.”

“Right, of course.”

As he started the Land Rover up, and they began the long drive up to the mansion, memories of finding Iain injured and unconscious dug at her senses. Had the intruder been there, too?

She tried to divert her intruding thoughts with small talk. “You must have heard of the McMasters? Even in Dundee? Mr. McMasters tried to completely disinherit Sally, but the executors went against the old man’s wishes saying he was crazy or something. They couldn’t save her losing control of his company though...” She fell quiet with an involuntary shiver, failing to stop herself from imagining some psychotic intruder stalking the grounds.

“You all right?” He shone the car’s fog headlights, white beams penetrating the prevalent Stygian gloom, made denser by the absence of street lighting. The bleak clouds hung lower.

Stop scaring yourself you idiot, she thought. “Yeah, just being silly. Damn, it’s as dark as night out there.”

His warm hand wrapped around her arm again. This time she placed her hand on his own, only releasing it when the wrought iron gates of the mansion and its imposing skyline finally came into view. She sat upright. Blue police tape lay torn on the ground. The cordon had been broken.

He responded calmly to her startled expression. “Don’t worry. The storm may have done it.”

Despite his assurances, however, a cold emptiness settled in her chest as he drove slowly through the open gates, stopping at the main entrance a few yards in. With the sound of the engine cut, the muffled rain seemed to beat louder against the metal and glass. “Give me the key. I’ll get out first,” he said. “I’ll come get you after I’ve had a look around.”

She grabbed at his hand. “No way am I staying here on my own. We go out together.”

He didn’t argue with her. He got out and walked over to open the door for her. “Get under that coat,” he said in a raised voice, “and give me your hand.”

She pulled his coat over her head, and reached out to him. He took her hand, and led her out, closing the door behind her. He began to run across the gravelled pathway to take them up to the font door, but she pulled him back.

“Not there. She closed up the main house when her dad died. They live in the old lodge next door.”

“You could have said before we got out the car.”

“You never asked! Come on, we’re getting drenched!” She took his hand and guided him down the gravelled path that led down to the garden grounds, around to a smaller, two storey building that looked like a large cottage. The downpour began to beat and trickle down the confines of the coat.

At the front door, she steadied her hand to put the key in the lock. She turned the key right until it clicked, and pushed the door open. Bounding in, she quickly took off the jacket and shook the excess water off.

“Come in and shut the door, quick! Oh, wow-” She threw a hand to her mouth when she caught a look at Kevin. He was standing in the open door frame, completely sluiced by the rain.

“Don’t you dare laugh...” he warned, stepping in and shutting the door behind him.

“I thought you were a big boy and could handle it?”

“Someone forgot to mention we’d need to take a detour down a garden the size of a football pitch to get here. We could have taken the car.”

“Yeah...” She watched in horror as he started to strip off his wet clothes. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think?”

For the first time she could remember, she felt shy with a man, and tried not to look at him, as he plucked his shirt off like a wet sheath, and undid his belt. He placed one hand against the door, and yanked his jeans off, first one leg, and then the other.

“Could you get me a towel, or do you want me to just run about to dry myself?” He stood there in the cool semi-darkness, wearing only black briefs. There was a Calvin Klein label on the waistband and a bulge below. Her gaze shot up. His bare chest had tight abs, rounded pecs, broad shoulders, and skin with a smattering of curly light brown hair that arrowed down his huge chest and kept on going.

“Towel, right,” she muttered, thinking it wise to get as far away from his perfect proportions as she could get. She switched on the hall’s lights, and made a quick dash for the stairs. As she reached the top, she heard him call out.

“Where’s the heating?”

“Switch is in the kitchen,” she called back.

She tried to get the image of him standing in his briefs out of her mind, as she quickly made her way to the bathroom for a towel. The wet look sure suited him, but she didn’t want him catching pneumonia.

On the second step, something caught her eye. Did Iain’s bedroom door just move? She must be imagining things. She stood there, instinctively wanting to call out to Kevin, but she steadied herself. There was nothing to be frightened of! If she called him, and there was nothing there, she’d never hear the end of it.

The creak came next. A creaking sound behind the bedroom door. Could it be the storm outside?

Her heart pounded in her chest and reverberated in her ears, as she clutched her hands together, breathing hard. She stayed absolutely still, listening out for more sounds.

Now the creaking was coming from behind her.

“What’s taking you so long?”

Turning around, she threw her hands up in the air, and screamed into Kevin’s surprised face. “Oh, you scared the fucking life out of me!”

“What’s wrong?”

She hugged herself. “I don’t know. Nothing. I just thought I heard a sound coming from Iain’s room. I must be imagining things.”

“Well, let's see shall we?” He walked over to the door and turned the handle. He stood her back, and pushed open the door, protectively positioning himself between her and the doorway.

Her breath was unsteady. “See anything?”

“Look for yourself,” he said, making way for her to enter. Hesitant and apprehensive, she peeked in.

The room was empty. Daisy heaved a sigh of relief. Except- Glancing around the room she noticed something that hadn’t been there before, and reaching out for the wall switch, turned on the light. What was that over there? On the far right wall. She blinked twice. Was she seeing things?

With a gasp, she pointed to the writing someone had left there. In large, red letters. As though scribbled in blood.

The dark is coming.

End of Chapter 15 | Read Chapter 16

Yours in love,

Mickie Kent

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